


Lessons

by Occula



Category: U2
Genre: Babies, Blowjobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 08:38:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12295458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Occula/pseuds/Occula
Summary: Larry teaches Adam what he wants. It's not exactly what Adam wants.





	Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Sexy babies posted on LJ Dec. 15, 2003.

It didn’t take Larry all that long to teach me what he wanted. He didn’t want to kiss, he didn’t particularly want to touch or be touched, and he didn’t want to go to bed.

He just wanted to suck my cock.

I’m no saint. I would rather have taken him to bed and never let go of him, but – given the circumstances, I chose to have what he’d let me have. At first I tried to touch him, love him, but I didn’t want to lose him altogether, so I compromised. And compromised, and compromised.

Familiar tap at the back door after school. Up to my room, which I’ve recently relocated to the garret, for moody, artistic effect as well as for privacy. I like the slanting ceiling, the seclusion, the lock I’ve put on the door.

He grins and drops his pack and shoves me. I sit on the edge of the bed and he tears my jeans open and pulls me out. I’m just beginning to harden, and he and I both like this rare occurrence because it means he can engulf me, plastering his lips to my body, his tongue roaming over my entire cock.

As you can imagine, my condition alters rapidly.

He sits back for a moment and looks at it, rigid and wet. Looks at me, leaning back on both hands, mostly dressed. He grins an evil grin. He describes in great detail exactly what he’s going to do. He discusses lips, tongue, throat – _teeth_ – at great length. I think I’m going to die of desire. Then he fondles and plays with my balls while he keeps talking for another eternity. I throw back my head and pant helplessly. I can’t help moving, squirming, anything – _god_ – any friction or contact to relieve this need, but there’s nothing. He laughs at me. I groan as quietly as I can, biting my lip.

When I can’t stand it another moment, he sucks me in. He engulfs, _devours_ me. There’s no finesse, no pretense at caressing or teasing. Just hot, wet, vigorous mouth thrusting over me. Oh fuck, it’s marvelous, it’s magnificent. I clench my teeth and allow myself to move, to thrust in response. I feel the back of his throat. He shudders a little and _opens_. He swallows me whole. Fuck almighty.

I let myself fantasize. I imagine he makes rounds after school, blowing half the boys until he’s full of come. I imagine he’s sucking me off _at_ school. On _stage_. I imagine he’s my boyfriend and he loves me; I imagine kissing him, oh, oh fuck, I’m coming, in his mouth and then deep in his throat. He sucks me hard and I bite the heel of my hand so as not to scream. I seem to remain suspended, coming, for an unreasonably long time, all my muscles locked.

He releases me and I collapse onto my side on the bed, whimpering against my hand. I’m near him, and I look at his face and catch him swallowing the last of it. I shudder hard. There’s a large drop on the corner of his mouth. I lean forward recklessly and grab his shoulder and just manage to brush that corner of his mouth with mine before he shoves me violently back. I lick the drop of my own come off my lips. I can’t help myself; I’ve lost my head completely. I roll forward again, grabbing at him. He panics and hits me on the mouth. It’s not exactly an accident, it’s not exactly on purpose; he just wants to make me stop. It’s not very hard. Just enough that I taste a little blood.

His eyes are wide and panicked. “What the fuck are you afraid of, anyway?” I snarl at him. “Why can’t you stand to be –”

“Fuck off!” he yells at me; he fumbles with the lock, and he’s gone.

I lie there on top of my bed with blood in my mouth and my willie hanging out. I lie like that for a long time. When I hear my mum coming up to ask whether I’m coming to dinner, I toss the blanket over myself quickly, just remembering to cover the bottom of my face as well. When she comes in I tell her I’m not feeling well.

What would I have asked him? Gorgeous, talented boy, why are you so fucked up? Why can’t you stand to be touched; why can’t you stand to be kissed? Why can’t you stand to be wanted? Why can’t you stand to be loved?


End file.
